Insanity
by Hufflepuffian
Summary: Simone has recently discovered something: she has horrible taste in men. What happens when she finds out that these guys aren't as insane as she thinks they are? [SimoneIsaacPeter][Rated For Safety]
1. Prologue

**_Author's Note:_** I apologize for how short this is. My prologues generally only have the one key idea, and can be as short as a few paragraphs, to as long as a couple hundred words. My regular chapters are longer, this I promise you, I just wanted to get the idea of the story out of the way. Hope you enjoy, I'd love any review you could pass my way, I love critiquing. Thanks!

**_Disclaimer: _**I, obviously, do not own Heroes. It was created by Tom Kring, the mind behind Crossing Jordan. It is owned (I assume) by him, and NBC Universal Television Studio. Word.

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'_You sure know how to pick them, Simone,'_ she sighed to herself, resting the ball of her head against the unpainted wall of her apartment. A briefcase messily dropped on to the table next to her, yet her hands wouldn't let go of the handle. Her eyes were firmly shut, preventing anything from coming out of them. It had been only been a matter of days since she had left Isaac, the thought of him still in dominance in her brain, but then there was Peter, who was burned so hard in her memory it would be difficult for her to forget him, too. But she knew she had to.

A quiet sob, rather out of character for her, the bold boheme, came through her muffled mouth. Isaac had been bad enough, thinking he could paint the future, but Peter… Peter was borderline insane.

"_Simone, I…" he breathed, moving his mouth away from hers, breaking the intense moment between them. "I have to tell you something. I wasn't… I didn't try to kill myself, I--"_

"_I know, Peter," Simone replied calmly, she had known Nathan, his older brother, was a liar and a snake, the only reason she attended the stupid thing was to see Peter. _

"_That's not it," he reiterated. She stared at him momentarily, trying to process what he was going through. "I… I was trying to fly. I can fly." The way it came out of him, he sounded nervous and excited at the same time, Simone just continued staring._

"_You can fly…?" she asked, expecting it to be a complete joke. He just nodded in agreement to her question. Her staring broke and she looked away. As funny as he sounded, she was more hurt than amused by this. "Peter," she said, slowly turning her head back in his direction, a small frown on her face. "I—I have to go," she lied through her teeth. She pushed herself away and moved her bright red umbrella away from him. He smiled at her and waved, and she waved back, but as soon as she turned away she regretted doing even that._

"They're always crazy… why are they always crazy?" she murmured, her mouth barely opening and her eyes still shut as tightly as they possibly could. Slowly, her grip on the suitcase lightened and she moved her hands to her face, her left elbow balancing on the edge of the table to support the weight.

She was sad. She felt she had every right to be, all the men she liked had some sort of… insanity to them. Isaac, let alone being addicted to drugs, who could paint a picture of something that will happen, then flying boy. Maybe she had a power, too: a Craze ray. Wherever she went the crazies followed. With another quiet sob, she covered her eyes with her fingers.

Moments passed, she could feel her sadness and anger building up inside her. It was too much, she had to get out. But before she began to stand up, or even open her eyes, there was a crash. Her eyes shot open, half-expecting to see somebody in the apartment with her, but saw nobody. All that was different was that her briefcase wasn't next to her, anymore.

No, it was on the other side of the room, and there was a dent in the wall.


	2. Act I: Uneasy

**_Author's Note:_** I really liked writing this chapter. I'm not one for "action-y" stories like this, but whenever I can I really enjoy it. The problem is I'm not so good with it. Hopefully this all makes sense, it makes sense to me (but my brain works in weird ways).

**_Disclaimer: _**I, obviously, do not own Heroes. It was created by Tom Kring, the mind behind Crossing Jordan. It is owned (I assume) by him, and NBC Universal Television Studio. Word.

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Blinking rapidly, her eyes not moving from the location on the other side of the room, Simone could feel her heart beating faster. Her kitchen, which was in disarray as it was, now had a large dent in the far wall. She just knew the apartment manager would love that, but, there were bigger things on her mind. Did she throw it? No, she couldn't have, her hands were nowhere near the thing when it flew off. It couldn't have been a gust of wind: for one, her window was shut, and because her briefcase was sometimes even too heavy for her. But what could it have been?

She got to her feet and hurried over to the other side of the room, carefully avoiding the mess on the way. She licked up the briefcase and saw that it was in perfect condition (well, as perfect as it was before the incident), but the wall… the wall was bad. She let one hand off the briefcase and gently placed it on the wall. The dent in it was huge; she really didn't anticipate something like that happening, the way the complex was nearly in shambles. The wall was still standing; it just looked like something had carved into it and painted over.

The only other explanation was—"No. No, it couldn't be," she mumbled to herself, as if it would make her doubt it, but there was no other explanation, in her mind. "Stop it, you're going crazy," she scolded herself and stood up, the briefcase still in hand. She carefully dropped it on the table and hurried to her room. Maybe she was just seeing things.

* * *

Simone had a hard time sleeping that night. The rain had quickly turned into a nasty thunderstorm, and the sound of the hard drops falling against her window weren't exactly comforting. Then there was the constant thought of both Peter and Isaac going through her head, she really couldn't stand it. Whenever she did manage to fall asleep, she found herself awake again after a series of rolls, her clock said only a few minutes had passed. 

It must have been nearly 3 in the morning—no, it was two, Simone thought, as she turned her head to her clock—when a loud crashing sound awoke her, yet again. This time, though, it caused her to jump, and her heart began to race, she was awake. It was too loud, too close to be thunder, it sounded like it was right inside of her house. Her heart pounding, she could have sworn she heard something again. Quietly, she got up from her bed. Despite being awake, she nearly toppled over, with her legs failing her. She managed to keep her balance and creep over to the door, which was firmly shut.

The light outside of her bedroom wasn't on, but she knew there was somebody out there. Her hand held against the knob of the door and opened it. It creaked about midway, causing her to just fling it open. If there was somebody in the house, she didn't want them to hear her. It was times like this she thanked her mother for making her grow up with slippers, as her pink-fluff covered feet scraped against the floor. From down the hall, she could see a dim light coming from the kitchen. She could also hear shuffling through something, a drawer, she assumed. There was definitely somebody in her house.

As quietly as possibly she stopped next to the kitchen. There was no door, it was open-faced, (another thing she was now thankful for), so she could see into the room, but her eyes weren't adjusted and she didn't think she could see anybody. She took a step further, into the tiled kitchen. There was a soft creak as she stepped on the tile. She held in a breath and the rummaging stopped.

She didn't exhale. Instead, she stepped off the tile. She was a loud footstep coming in her direction. Quietly and efficiently, she crouched down next to the door. A figure emerged, he was wearing a large robe, it looked like. She couldn't see the person's face, and Simone only hoped they couldn't see hers.

The man (she assumed it was a man, at this point, because his breathing sounded deeper than hers did) let out a quiet mumble. The head of the clock began moving, searching around the room for something. Her.

Simone then did something she never thought she would do. She didn't know if this man was armed or not, she didn't even know who this guy was, but she lunged forward from her crouching position, and grabbed his legs. He jumped, his feet left the ground, and it felt like he was trying to fight her off. She made an attempt to push him to the ground, but he was too heavy for her. He said nothing, only made quiet grumblings and whispers she couldn't quite make out, but he was fighting back, flailing his feet, but Simone had the advantage, until…

Everything inside her went numb. Her grip loosened, and she began moving away from the man. She tried to fight back, but nothing happened, she felt like she wasn't even in control of her own body. She found herself pinned against the wall. The man was looking at her, but from under his cloak she couldn't make out his face. She was looking directly at him, even though she was trying not to. The man, for the first time, did something other than whisper, he laughed.

The next few moments became a blur. Simone thought the man left the room, went back into the kitchen, but she was still being pinned up. What the hell was holding her? She gulped and tried to hold in a breath, but it felt like something punched her in the stomach and made her exhale. The man returned, she looked at him nervously. It was becoming harder to breath, her being pinned against the wall, and now—

In his hand was a knife. At first, Simone thought he was going to stab her. Her heart pounded louder, faster (as if it wasn't already), she gulped again and tried her hardest to break free of whatever it was holding on to her. Still nothing.

"D—don't…" was all she could manage, and as soon as she spoke she felt something behind grabbing on to her neck, gagging her. To her surprise, though, when he held up his hand he didn't "stab her" as she thought. He put it in her hand. She was confused, at first, still nervous, but she had no idea what was going on.

Then she realized. Her hand then moved back to the wall, the blade of the knife facing her head, her hand in line with her next. This guy—the man… he was controlling her. And he was going to get her to kill herself.


	3. Act II: Together

**_Author's Note:_** Here it is, the end to the story. I apologize for how short it's been, but it accomplished what I wanted to accomplish, no need to inane details. I'm currently plotting a longer fic, possibly with an Original Character, plus all of our other lovely Heroes. Keep on the look out for that.

**_Disclaimer: _**I, obviously, do not own Heroes. It was created by Tom Kring, the mind behind Crossing Jordan. It is owned (I assume) by him, and NBC Universal Television Studio. Word.

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The knife came closer and closer to Simone's flesh. It was moving slowly, as if the man was hesitating. Simone was trying to fight it. Her emotions were building up: worry, anxiety, and sadness. Her eyes closed and she could feel traces of hers falling down, but her hand moved closer and closer still. She thought back to the briefcase. It was moved, she knew it had. And she had moved it… with her mind. She had to believe it, she had to believe that she could do it. She could stop this guy. Tightening her eyes shut, she focused all of her concentration on something—anything—coming over to help her. She felt her hand brush against her bicep. The blade tickled her skin, the tip grinding closer and closer.

'_I can do it…'_ she thought. But it was no use, she gave up. She opened her eyes soon enough to see the man stepping away from her, he seemed ready to leave. Another tear, another inch closer to her. She thought of Peter, how she had left him like that in the rain, now she was the crazy one. She thought of Isaac, leaving him like that. She felt horrible. She betrayed him. "Isaac…" she whispered.

She then fell to the ground, the knife still in her hand. The cloaked man straggled backwards, she looks up to see him fall down, crashing onto the floor. A few meters away from him was her briefcase. She had done it again. She got to her knees and looked over at him. He looked like he was knocked out. As she tried to stand up she let out a shriek. Underneath, her, on the floor, was blood. The knife was on the floor, she had dropped it after she fell, but not before it sliced open a gash in her neck. Holding her hand against the wound she tried to make it to the kitchen. There was a phone in there.

* * *

Simone opened her eyes and all she could see around her was a white room. She was propped up by pillows on a bed. She looked to her left, a sharp pain went down the side of her neck and saw an empty bed next to her, and a small tray with water and some food on it.

"Doctor told me to tell you not to turn your head, much… You severed something, don't remember what it was."

It took her a minute to register who's voice it was, but when she did, she straightened herself back up and turned her eyes to the right of her. "Isaac…"

"Hey," he said. He looked cleaned up, dressed up. He got up from the seat and bent over her, giving her an affectionate peck on the cheek, even though he knew full well they were "broken up".

"What am I—how did you?" she asked, unable to really bring together any thought. She was exhausted. "How long have I been out?"

"A few hours… You cut yourself in your apartment. I came as soon as I heard, I… It was my fault."

Simone's eyes narrowed, as she watched the man sit back down. As nice as he looked, he seemed uncomfortable. She smiled as lightly as she could and gently turned her head in his direction. "It wasn't your fault, it was--"

"No, Simone… it was. I've had a picture of what happened for weeks. I didn't… I didn't want to tell you. It's all my fault, I shouldn't have…"

"Issac—Isaac, I didn't try to kill myself."

He smiled at her and pulled his chair closer. He moved his hand onto hers, which were neatly placed on her waist. "I know."

"That's not it. Isaac… I can move things with my mind."

He started laughing, didn't give her a chance to finish. "And you think I'm insane…" he muttered with a grin, and reached over, kissing her again. This time, she returned the kiss.

'_Oh well,_' she thought, closing her eyes. '_We'll get through insanity together.'_


End file.
